Mango Ice Cream
by JewWitch
Summary: Slash for Abby & Neela! This was only gonna be a oneshot, but things just seemed to keep on rollin'...read on if you wanna see Neela get all punked out :
1. Chapter 1

**Mango Ice Cream**

**By JewWitch**

**Summary**: A different ending for "Two Ships"…after watching that ep, I was a bit overcome, and this just came out. Ever notice how Abby is the only one who really sees Neela as a whole person-- not just a brain, or a ball buster, or a sweet, innocent little girl who needs to be protected? It just seemed to lend itself well to this type of ending…

**Rating**: PG-13

Almost a full minute after the gurney carrying the injured ambulance driver had been wheeled away, the entire staff of the ER still stood staring at Neela in shock. Of course, they all respected her for her frightening intellect, not to mention her sometimes fiery temper; and she'd certainly proved her mettle before. They all had, at one time or another. But this? Performing emergency surgery single-handed in the middle of the street, moments after she'd been pulled from a burning building? Clemente's appreciative parting statement still hung in the air: _You've got cojones. Big, brass ones. And they look good on ya!_

They might've all stood there gaping at her for even longer if Abby hadn't appeared, giving them all a quick, admonishing glare, angry that they were all too busy being impressed by Neela to notice she was in acute respiratory distress. Swooping in and gently taking the shaking girl's face in her hands, Abby gave her a reassuring grin before tilting her head back and gently pressing on her lymph nodes.

"I'm fine," Neela wheezed weakly, her expression slightly glazed. It was hard to tell, as her eyes were so dark, but Abby was fairly sure her pupils were dilated.

"Yeah, you sound great," Abby agreed dryly while guiding her friend lightly toward a gurney. Neela barely seemed to be listening; she still had the same distant, unfocused look in her eyes, and she was rocking back and forth in her seat with her arms wrapped around herself.

"Hey," Abby said gently, taking Neela's soot-covered chin in her hand, struck suddenly by just how young her friend was, and how far from home. "You're okay now, Neela…it's over. You were amazing, you know." Neela shook her head, still trembling.

"Today was so…scary," she said, finally looking up at Abby, who was now listening to her heart. "I mean, it was just me out there…no labs, no cut-down trays, no nurses, nothing. It was-- it was just-- incredible. I felt so powerful." Abby was still looking into Neela's dark eyes with concern etched on her face, as she pressed the stethoscope lightly to the other girl's back. "Maybe it's just the adrenalin, but…I feel high. You know? I need to go back out there."

"You're not going anywhere except upstairs, cowgirl. You need a chest x-ray."

"I'm fine," Neela insisted again with a wave of her shaky hand, as Abby forced a breathing tube into her mouth.

"Neela, you're not fine. You're in shock. You could have pulmonary parenchymal damage, or hypoxemia, or bacterial pneumonia! You need to be monitored." Neela shook her head.

"I've been on for sixteen hours," she said hollowly. "I need to go home."

"C'mon, let me take you upstairs," Abby coaxed, laying a comforting hand on her friend's back and rubbing lightly between her shoulder blades. "You can sleep through the tests."

"I need to be in my own bed," Neela said stubbornly, pushing herself off the gurney on shaky legs.

"Then I'll come and sleep on your couch," Abby countered with equal determination.

"That's not necessary." Neela coughed, bending forward with her hands on her knees.

"Yes it _is_, you wanker!" Abby's use of one of her own London slang words, combined with the forcefulness of her tone, caught Neela's attention; it seemed to penetrate the daze she was in. She looked at Abby in shock for a moment. "Who made you think you had to be made of steel?" Abby added softly.

"All right, then," Neela sighed. Abby smiled. Then Neela smacked her hand to her forehead and groaned. "Oh, bollocks…I completely forgot, it's Ray's practice night. My apartment's going to be party central." She coughed again, and this time she leaned into the supportive arm Abby was offering her without a fight.

"C'mon, tough girl…I'll take you back to my place, okay?" Neela nodded. Abby left her sitting in the hallway with the breathing tube, which Neela reluctantly held. In the few short minutes it took her to collect both their things from the doctors' lounge, she could see that the shell-shocked young woman's hands had finally stopped shaking. She smiled encouragingly when those large brown eyes looked up at her.

"All set?" Abby asked, helping Neela into her jacket, and tucking back a lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes.

"Abby? Neela asked tentatively.

"Mmhmm?" Abby answered distractedly, putting on her coat.

"Thanks." Abby looked up, and they smiled at each other.

"Anytime, sweetie." As the adrenalin that had carried her through the night's events drained away, Neela began to feel limp, as if all her bones had turned to some kind of soft gummi-candy, of the sort that American children were always eating. Her exhaustion overriding her usual prideful streak of independence, she allowed herself to lean heavily on Abby, letting her head fall onto her taller friend's shoulder. Abby wound her arm protectively around Neela's slight waist, deliberately avoiding thinking about how good it felt when her shirt rode up a bit, and Abby's fingers came into unexpectedly intimate contact with Neela's warm, soft skin. This exersize in non-thought was cut short by a quiet yawn from Neela as they slowly made their way to the street, where Abby had already decided she'd call a taxi. No way was she putting Neela through an EL ride in this condition. Behind the admitting desk, Morris stood watching them go with a large, goofy smirk on his face, which remained until Sam smacked him upside the head.

"Ow!" He whined. "Sam, what the hell?"

"You're a pig, Morris," she said flatly. "For god's sake, Neela just got the crap burned out of her lungs, and you're stocking up on wet dreams. Why don't you go do something useful around here?"

"Okay, jeez," Morris mumbled, rubbing the back of his head indignantly. Once he'd gone, Sam looked back toward the exit, a knowing grin creeping onto her face.

By the time they arrived at Abby's apartment, Neela was practically asleep on her feet, her eyes open just a crack, and her head still lolling on Abby's shoulder. She wasn't paying particular attention to where she was going, trusting Abby to lead her. It wasn't until she found herself sitting on the edge of the large bed that she took stock of her surroundings.

"What are we doing in here, then?" Neela murmured, rubbing her eyes groggily. Her voice came out rough, and a bit stuffy, which Abby thought made her sound like a sleepy child.

"Do you really think I'd make you take the couch, after the day you've just had?" Abby chuckled, shaking her head as she leaned down and began unlacing Neela's shoes.

"No, Abby, you don't have to…" Neela began, with a slow shake of her head.

"Yes I do," Abby said firmly. "Anyway, I won't be sleeping; somebody's gotta keep an eye on you." She smirked, and gave Neela a small wink. She got a faint smile in return.

"Could you…that is, if it weren't any trouble…" Neela bit her lip hesitantly. Abby merely cocked her eyebrow, giving her friend her patented spit-it-out-already look. "Would you mind, 'not sleeping' in here? With me? I'd-- I'd rather not be alone tonight." Abby couldn't help but smile, a wide, easy, genuine smile, at the vulnerability in Neela's voice, and the knowledge that she, Abby, had the power to ease it. She found herself with the same strange sense of pride she always seemed to feel whenever Neela fell apart, not that she did it often; she just liked the fact that she was the one this world-conquering girl chose to show her rawness.

"It's not any trouble," Abby said softly.

"I need a shower," Neela said suddenly, trying to stand up.

"Whoa." Abby pushed her back down easily. "I'm not loving that idea right now…unless you want me in there with you, holding you up." She said this last part teasingly, hoping her friend was too out of it to notice the blush coloring her cheeks. Neela, for her part, woke up a bit more as Abby's innocent statement caused her own face to heat up, momentarily thankful that her skin was too dark to show a blush. Unfortunately, Abby chose that moment to press a cool hand to her cheek.

"You know, I think you might have a fever," Abby said worriedly, moving her hand to Neela's forehead, then gently sifting her fingers through her friend's messy black hair. "I shouldn't have taken you out of the hospital," she added guiltily.

"Don't be stupid, I was leaving with you or without you," Neela reminded her, slightly more awake now and enjoying the sudden abundance of physical affection. "Without you, I'd probably have fallen asleep on the EL…and, well, I imagine I've a bit of a hobo look at the moment," she grinned shyly, rubbing her hand across her face and leaving a smudge of black soot across the bridge of her nose. "What's the wager I'd end up in police custody, hey?" They looked at each other, and burst into giggles. Neela coughed a bit more, but it wasn't the desperate, wheezy cough she'd had a few hours ago; now she just sounded as if she had a bad cold.

"I've got an idea, okay?" Abby said, getting up from the bed. "Don't move." Neela nodded, leaning back against the pillows, feeling only slightly guilty about the hickory-smoked odor she was leaving all over Abby's bed; she knew Abby well enough by now to know that she didn't put up with anything she didn't _want_ to put up with. It was one of the things she mostly deeply admired in her friend, along with her profound compassion, which she always seemed to hold onto without any sense of martyrdom, and her ability to navigate conflict without resorting to direct confrontation. It really was amazing, Neela thought, the way Abby always seemed able to assess what was needed in any given situation, without letting her emotions dictate knee-jerk reactions; but at the same time, she didn't deny the emotions. It was all there in her eyes, which Neela had made a habit of studying, especially in tense or difficult moments-- which, in the ER, were many. While other people's expressions said _oh shit _or _what are we going to do now,_ Abby's eyes held this quiet serenity…there was an ocean there, vast, big enough to contain the pain, the confusion, the helplessness…but above all, the grace. Neela felt that Abby may well be the only person she'd ever know who really let things be exactly what they are. Most people tried to force things to be what they wanted them to be.

Neela was still daydreaming about all the things she loved about Abby, when the woman in question returned with a large metal basin in her hands, and a hand towel draped over her arm. Neela raised one eyebrow questioningly.

"This is the closest thing to a shower you're gonna get tonight," Abby shrugged, sitting back down and placing the basin of steaming water on the bedside table next to her. "Tomorrow you can run up the water bill all you want, okay?" Neela nodded, her mouth going suddenly dry as she watched Abby dip the cloth into the hot water, then wring it out. "Close your eyes," she said gently. Neela immediately complied. A moment later, the most wonderful sensations were coursing through her body, as Abby began tenderly wiping the soot from her face.

"Ohhh…bloody hell, that feels good," Neela sighed, leaning unconsciously into Abby's touch, eyes still closed.

"That's the idea," Abby grinned. They both lapsed into silence, enjoying each other's presence and the excuse for continued physical contact.

"Will you do my back?" Neela asked quietly, both of them pretending not to notice the way her voice cracked.

"Sure…okay," Abby agreed, putting the damp cloth aside to help the younger woman pull off her soot-stained shirt, leaving her in just her bra. The more Abby told herself not to stare, the more impossible it was. Even covered in sooty grime, Neela was achingly beautiful; even more so because she genuinely didn't seem to know it. It was an aspect of her innocence that charmed Abby the most, providing a window into her parochial prep school childhood; the earnest innocence of intelligence taken for granted.

"Something wrong?" Neela asked when Abby remained motionless, opening her eyes lazily.

"Nu-uh," Abby mumbled with a quick shake of her head, retrieving the cloth and soaking it again in the hot water while Neela laid down on her stomach, giving Abby an unhindered view of her smooth, if soot-smudged back. Starting at the nape of her neck, Abby gently wiped away the sooty marks the fire had left behind, suddenly filled with gratitude to whatever higher power might be out there that the quietly sighing girl below her hadn't been seriously hurt; or worse. She swallowed back the tears that threatened to well up behind her eyes, delicately lifting Neela's satin bra straps with two fingers to run the damp cloth underneath. Then, impulsively, she leaned down and kissed the nape of the younger girl's neck.

"All done," she murmured, tasting the smoky flavor left on her friend's skin, combined with her own ever-present scent; a sweet, fresh, girly smell, with an edge of some sort of spice-- nutmeg, perhaps, or cinnamon.

"Thanks," Neela mumbled huskily, sitting up with her shirt held against her chest, suddenly shy. Then her stomach growled loudly, breaking the awkward moment.

"Neela, how long has it been since you've eaten anything?"

"Oh, Abby, please don't make me, I can't even think about it," Neela whimpered pitifully, a childishly petulant edge to her voice. "I can barely swallow as it is."

"Not even mango ice cream?" Abby asked innocently.

"You've got mango ice cream?" Neela repeated disbelievingly.

"Uh-huh," Abby grinned. "From that Indian market you took me to, on the way to your place once. Remember?"

"But you didn't even like it," Neela frowned, confusion evident in her eyes.

"Says who?"

"Says you!" Neela chuckled. "You said, and I quote: _this tastes like frozen ass_."

"Oh…right. I might've said that." Abby blushed a little, and this time Neela did notice. "The truth is, I got it for you." For a moment they both just sat there smiling at each other.

"Thanks," Neela said quietly.

"So you'll have some?" Neela nodded. "Great," Abby said happily, rising from the bed. Neela put out a hand, quickly pulling her back.

"Abby?" She said softly. Abby said nothing, but looked at her with wide, trusting eyes. A strange, bold sensation stole over Neela, and she leaned forward and took Abby's face in her hands, gently stroking her cheeks, moving slowly enough to give Abby the chance to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn't. Neela moved in close enough to feel the warmth of Abby's breath on her lips, closing her eyes as their foreheads touched. Finally, their lips met in the softest, gentlest kiss either of them had ever known. Neela sucked Abby's lower lip into her mouth and Abby let her, both her hands winding around to hold the trembling girl by the small of her back, torn momentarily between the warm dip of Neela's spine, and the wet adoration of her teeth scraping over Abby's lip. When they finally pulled apart, Neela leaned her forehead back against Abby's with a sigh of contentment.

"You sure you're not still in shock?" Abby asked playfully, and Neela laughed, then began coughing again, leaning over the side of the bed so she wouldn't cough on Abby. Abby rubbed her back soothingly, and, when the coughing subsided, leaned down and kissed Neela's temple, rubbing her nose in silky black hair.

"Let's not rush this, okay?" Abby murmured, her fingers still grazing lightly over Neela's bare back. "We've got all the time in the world…and right now, you need to take it easy, babe." Neela blushed.

"Okay," she agreed shyly.

"So how about I get you that ice cream now…and in the morning, if you're not feeling any better, we're going straight back to the hospital, no ifs, ands or buts."

"And if I _am_ feeling better?" Neela asked coyly, looking up impishly from beneath long lashes.

"Then we'll see about that shower," Abby grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

Mango Ice Cream

Part 2

By JewWitch

Abby woke with the rich pink light of dawn spilling over her face, along with Neela's curled fingers. She smiled into the warm hand resting against her cheek, feeling the grin bloom out of her like a tugging sensation; it was as if the sleeping woman next to her actually held a magnet in her hand, drawing out Abby's delight by some force that was completely beyond her control. With a long, lazy stretch, Abby opened her eyes and glanced at the clock, quickly turning off the alarm when she saw that it was just two minutes to six. She didn't want Neela to wake to the harsh, unforgiving buzz.

Truth be told, she didn't want Neela to wake up at all, not yet. Rolling back onto her side, Abby felt her smile cranking up several notches as she took in the sight of her peacefully slumbering bedmate. God, Neela looked too young to be a doctor right now, with her face smashed into the pillow, lips slightly parted, her long lashes framing the curve of those artful eyelids. She hardly looked old enough to be a college graduate. Then again, Abby felt about sixteen years old herself right at the moment, so she supposed it all balanced out. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this way; giddy and warm and full of uncomplicated adoration for someone, someone she just wanted to lie here and savor. Neela wasn't like anyone else Abby had ever known; she wasn't trying to fix Abby, or save her, or be saved by her. Maybe it was partly because she was Indian, and had escaped the particular psychosis of Christianity and the martyr complex that went along with it. Whatever it was, Abby felt no fear of Neela's baggage, the way she normally did when she fell for someone. A line from an old song popped into her head suddenly: _I'm looking for baggage that goes with mine_.

When she couldn't smile any harder, all the rest of her giddiness welled up and compelled Abby to lean into Neela's warm body, reaching out and gently tracing her fingertip over the sleeping girl's face. Starting with the elegant arch of her brow, Abby slowly grazed down her cheekbone, across the bridge of her nose and down to the tip, deciding right then and there that Neela had the cutest nose in the whole wide world. She kept up her gentle exploration, her fingers finding Neela's lips next and basking in their softness as the object of her affections began to stir and sigh. She mumbled a few words, then rolled from her side onto her stomach, one arm winding around Abby's hip to come into warm, solid contact with the small of her back. They both gave a long, low sigh of satisfaction. Then Abby let her hand wander from Neela's face to her raven-black hair, the glossy strands tickling the spaces between each of her fingers as her palm came to rest at the nape of that elegant neck. _This_, Abby thought lazily as she drank in the swooping curve of Neela's closed eyelids, _is better than ecstasy_.

They were still in this position, snuggled together in the pale light of early morning, when Neela's eyes began to flutter, opening finally with a completely unselfconscious sigh as the waking world filtered in. Abby just watched her, another rush of enthusiastic butterflies surging through her when those enormous onyx eyes turned up at her.

"Morning," Neela murmured, her voice husky with sleep and the remnants smoke inhalation from the previous night's adventures.

"You look like a song when you're sleeping," Abby murmured back, too caught up in the easy moment to stop and think about what she was saying. But Neela didn't look like she was complaining; a huge, sleepy smile stole over her face, and she drew her hand from the warmth of Abby's back to lightly stroke her cheek.

"My, you're poetic in the morning, aren't you?" Neela chuckled, stretching out her limbs with a huge yawn.

"Sleep well?"

"Mmm."

"You were talking in your sleep a little while ago."

"Was I?" Neela cocked her head in interest. "What did I say?"

"No idea," Abby said cheerfully.

"Oh…" Neela grinned apologetically. "Punjabi?"

"Well it wasn't English, that's all I know," Abby shrugged. As Neela rolled onto her back, Abby reached out and snuck a hand up under her flannel pajama top, stroking her stomach in soft, lazy circles. Neela sighed and arched her back, giving Abby the impression of an overlarge kitten. "Do you dream in Punjabi a lot?" she asked curiously.

"Not as much as I used to," Neela said with another sigh, eyes half-lidded under the effects of Abby's tummy-rub. "Before I came to the states, it was about fifty-fifty…bugger, has it really been ten years since I left home?" She shook her head slightly. "S'pose it's just slipping away a bit…I never speak it anymore, do I?" Turning back onto her side, Neela regarded Abby anew. "Of course, I could always teach you, and then we could talk to each other all we like without anyone knowing what we're saying…" The suggestion, coupled with Neela's impish, goofy smirk, made Abby snort with laughter.

"What, you wanna talk dirty to me at work?"

"Maybe." The innocent look of desire that accompanied these words made Abby feel suddenly and unaccountably shy; she looked away, chuckling nervously. "I'll make some flashcards, then, shall I?" At this, they both burst out laughing, and Abby was pleased to see that Neela wasn't coughing at all.

"So, you feeling better, babe?"

"Much," Neela nodded, feeling her face heating up a bit. She decided she liked it when Abby called her _babe_. She liked it quite a lot.

"Good, that means I can feed you a real breakfast," Abby grinned, finally sitting up and throwing her legs over the side of the bed. "Blueberry pancakes sound good?"

"Mmm…splendid," Neela moaned happily. "I'll make some coffee."

Breakfast passed quickly, the two of them falling easily into a pattern that was familiar and comfortable; they'd shared plenty of breakfasts before, of course. But this was different, though there were moments when they both seemed to forget-- there was a recklessness in the lack of any particular set of rules of conduct between them, the overlapping layers of intimacy smoothing down the edges of awkwardness in what was and wasn't their first morning together. When the table had been cleared and the dishes done to the tune of their favorite morning radio station, Neela announced that she was going to take a shower, and it was then that Abby faltered. She was the one who had said they shouldn't rush; but suddenly she didn't know what she'd meant by it. Was she supposed to give the younger woman space now; wait for Neela to come to her? She didn't want to be too aggressive and scare the young intern off. When they had first been roommates, Neela's overdeveloped sense of British propriety had nearly been their undoing. But they were on much more solid ground now; weren't they? Abby was afraid to overwhelm the young woman, but she also didn't want to let herself fall into a trap of creating an unequal power dynamic between them; if this was ever going to work, she had to trust Neela to say what she wanted, or didn't want, without any coddling.

"…Abby?" The way Neela said her name, one eyebrow cocked, suggested it wasn't the first time she'd been called.

"Huh?" Abby looked up from her internal rant distractedly. Neela grinned, an easy, indulgent, what-am-I-ever-going-to-do-with-you grin.

"Aren't you coming?"


	3. Chapter 3

Mango Ice Cream

Part 3

By JewWitch

Note: if anyone actually does speak Punjabi, I apologize if my translations are sloppy.

"I don't care if Mon-day's bluuue, Tuesday's grey and Wednesday, too; Thuuursday, I don't care about you, it's Friday, I'm in love…" Neela sang quietly to herself as she sutured the foot of the teen who'd somehow managed to drop a butcher knife on it.

"You like the Cure?" He asked conversationally, craning his neck to watch her work.

"Sorry?" Neela looked up distractedly, after snipping off the end of the neat row of stitches.

"The Cure," the boy repeated, grinning eagerly at her as if they were sitting side by side in a bar somewhere rather than on a hospital gurney. "You were singing."

"Oh…yeah, I suppose I do," Neela grinned easily back as she dressed the wound with a clean bandage. "Now you've got to change this dressing twice a day, Ryan, and make sure you keep the stitches dry. Your mum can make a follow-up appointment with your primary care physician to take them out in two weeks, all right?"

"Whatever you say, Dr. Neela," the blond-haired boy replied with far too much enthusiasm for someone who'd come in with a kitchen knife sticking out of his foot. "But, uh, maybe I'd better come back here to get my stitches out," he added quickly.

"Why's that?" Neela cocked her head expectantly.

"Well, I was kinda hoping my mom wouldn't have to know about this…see, she's always telling me I don't have any common sense, and I don't pay enough attention to what I'm doing. If she finds out I cut my foot open making a ham and cheese, she'll _never_ let me get my learner's permit."

"Well based on today, Ryan, I'm inclined to agree with her." The boy continued to hold her gaze with anxious, puppy-dog eyes. "All right, you can come back here in two weeks," Neela agreed with a slight roll of her eyes. "But _do_ be careful with that permit, please. I don't want to see you back here with a steering wheel wrapped around your neck."

"Thanks," the boy said effusively as he hopped to the floor on his good foot, and began gingerly walking toward the exit. Neela gave him a small wave, and as she watched him go, her eyes traveled across the room to where Abby was bent over a chart behind the admitting desk. She stood motionless for a few moments, just watching the brunette making notes with a wide smile on her face. She loved the way Abby quirked her lips when she was deep in thought; it was almost a pout, but a completely unselfconscious one…and it made the cutest little wrinkle on her chin. Apparently satisfied with her notations, Abby looked up from her clipboard, and caught Neela's eyes across the room, instantly doubling the size of the young intern's silly smile. She knew she ought to take it down a notch; standing motionless and grinning like an idiot in the midst of the open hallway was fairly conspicuous behavior. She took a step backward, and bumped into the suture tray, stumbling with a small gasp of surprise before she righted herself. From the corner of her eye, she could see Abby laughing and shaking her head, giving her a small wink before she walked away.

Time sped up then, as Neela was pulled into trauma one for a case of cooper-mini versus SUV, and her mind quickly returned to the pursuit of medicine. When she was sent from the room to call up to the ICU for a bed, though, her eyes naturally canvassed the room, stopping when they found their mark, leading a very large man with a bloody cut on his head to sutures. He was moaning and bellowing, casting his arms about, while Abby led him calmly towards a gurney, not looking agitated in the least. Neela's mind wandered back to the night before, when Abby had led her to a gurney in a similar state of agitation. She'd known she loved Abby for a long time before now; but last night, with Abby's stethoscope on her back and her warm hands searching Neela's skin for cuts or burns, it had hit her like a bolt of lightning. She'd realized what every patient to pass through Abby's care already knew; that having Abby's attention focused completely on you, even just for a few moments, was something…something incredible. It made you feel special and safe and strong all at once, and Neela had known right then that she couldn't live with that feeling in small doses anymore; she wanted to breathe it, bathe in it. She wanted to know that she had it even when Abby was off in a trauma, or stitching a head lac across the room.

Grinning, Neela hung up the phone and turned back to the trauma room, when a thunderous bellow turned her attention, along with everyone else's, back to where Abby was approaching the head-bleeder with a needle of Novocain. The large man was waving his arms again, howling and beet-red in the face, backing away from Abby as if it were she that towered over him, and not the other way around. Abby quickly put the needle down, approaching the disoriented man with her palms flat, the universal gesture of _easy does it. _Pratt was also approaching from the man's other side, telling him to be calm in a tense voice that was obviously not having the intended effect. When the agitated man's eyes darted over to Pratt, Abby laid a reassuring hand on his arm, and with a roar he grabbed a paddle from the adjacent crash cart, which thankfully wasn't charged, and whipped around with the metal block brandished, cracking Abby across the temple.

"Security!" Pratt hollered. By the time he turned back around, Neela was already there, leaping onto the 6'3" man's back and locking her arms around his shoulder joints, clasping her hands behind his neck, so that his arms were effectively immobilized. He flailed and bellowed, but it was only a matter of seconds before three beefy security guards were upon them. Neela's feet had barely touched down to the floor before she was down on her knees beside Abby, Pratt on her other side with Kovac, Sam and Chuni all rushing toward them.

"Abby?" Neela gently probed the gash, relieved to see it wasn't deep, but anxious for her to open her eyes. "Abby, can you hear me? Say something, please," Neela begged, as many hands swooped down, taking the unconscious woman's vitals and assessing the head wound. Slowly, Abby's hazel-brown eyes blinked open, looking straight up at Neela as if she were the only person in the room.

_"Kuri darshani," _she murmured, a hazy grin on her face as she reached up and touched Neela's cheek. Neela smiled as relief flooded through her, and she quickly wiped away the tears that sprang to her eyes. No one else seemed comforted, however, and Kovac leaned across Neela to shine a light in Abby's eyes.

"She's altered," he said grimly.

"No she's not," Neela said quickly. "That was Punjabi." At this statement, everyone turned and looked at Neela blankly.

"She gets clocked over the head, and now she speaks Punjabi?" Pratt asked skeptically.

"No, of course not," Neela frowned. "We just, I mean-- I was teaching her a few words earlier, that's all."

"Oh," Kovac nodded, glancing back and forth between Abby, whose eyes had closed again, and Neela, who knelt beside her with one hand still stroking her forehead. "What did she say?" Neela opened and closed her mouth once, her eyes moving almost imperceptibly across the crowd gathered around them.

"Just…just hello," she said lamely.

"All right," Kovac nodded, putting the room at ease with one of his reassuring smiles. "Pupils are equal and reactive…she's all right. Just needs a few stitches, and a little rest. Everyone back to work, please." As the huddled group dispersed, Pratt and Kovac gently lifted Abby onto the gurney, and Sam glanced sideways at Neela appraisingly. "Neela," Kovac said kindly, "do you want to do her sutures?"

"Please," Neela nodded, missing the significant look he and Sam were sharing over her head, her eyes focused completely on Abby. The rest of the ER was a complete blur to her; she just kept her hands on the metal railing of the gurney, allowing Sam to steer them down the hall and into an unoccupied room. The usual whir of activity inside her brain had all been wiped away; for once, it took no effort at all to keep 100 of her conscious thought right there in the room with her, no footnotes of other cases, research studies, or news from her brother and sister at Uni crowding in around the edges.

"I don't care if Monday's blue…" she hummed unconsciously to herself as she worked, determined to make the stitches as small and even as humanly possible. When she was done, she reached out and ran her hand gently through Abby's hair, smiling at her peaceful expression, knowing she wouldn't be feeling so tranquil once she woke up.

"She wasn't really saying hello, was she?" Neela had completely forgotten that Sam was still in the room with them. She looked at the blond nurse appraisingly for a moment; all she saw was understanding, and the same easy camaraderie that Sam had always shared with Abby since they had been nurses together. Neela shook her head. "Well?" Sam prodded, a half-grin forming on her face.

"She said…_beautiful girl_," Neela admitted, smiling sheepishly at the grinning nurse. "Don't tell anyone, all right?"

"Neela, I don't _have_ to tell anyone," Sam chuckled. "It was pretty obvious after the way you tackled that guy…you're lucky you didn't get hurt, you know, he was three times your size!"

"Oh, I took a few self-defense courses at Yale," Neela shrugged, dropping all pretense and returning her adoring gaze to Abby, trailing her fingers up and down the soft skin of her inner arm. "I just had to keep him occupied a few moments till security turned up, didn't I?"

"It's good to know that even someone as smart as you gets stupid from love," Sam teased. Neela grinned bashfully.

"Ohhhh…fuck me…" Abby groaned as she began to wake up, her hand going up to the stitches on her forehead before she'd even opened her eyes.

"Sssh, don't touch," Neela crooned, capturing Abby's hand in both of hers and kissing it. "It's just five stitches, pet…you're all right." Slowly opening her eyes, Abby took in the sight of Neela's smiling face, wincing at the throbbing in her head.

"What the hell happened?" Abby asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.

"Well…you took a good knock on the head from a shock paddle," Neela explained softly, returning to her previous activity of trailing her fingers lightly up Abby's inner arm.

"And Neela earned her first pro-wrestling title," Sam added. "But I think she might be disqualified for going outside her weight class."

"What?" Abby exclaimed, sitting up quickly. "Ahhh…" she groaned, pressing her hand to her head. "Son of a _bitch!"_

"Sssh, relax," Neela urged her again, pushing her forcibly back down. "You want something for the pain?"

"No…no drugs."

"Are you sure? Because I can--"

"No, Neela. I can handle the pain better than the drugs, believe me."

"Isn't there anything I can do, pet?" Neela asked anxiously, her large eyes even wider than usual.

"Hmm…how about some sugar? I'll have some of that." Abby grinned saucily.

"Abby, don't be fresh," Neela admonished, with a glance to Sam.

"Oh, don't mind me, I'm just leaving," Sam said in a rush, gathering a few supplies and hurrying from the room with a wink. Once she had gone, Neela looked back down at Abby, who was still smirking up at her suggestively. With slow, deliberate movements, Neela put down the metal railing, and leaned over Abby on one elbow, her long hair trailing over Abby's shoulders.

"You are quite a piece of work," she murmured with a shake of her head.

"All part of my charms," Abby drawled innocently.

"Mmhmm…" Neela's reply was lost as their lips met, warm and wet and sweet.

"So what was that about pro-wrestling?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Mango Ice Cream**

**Part 4-- Wherein Abby & Neela show their colors & seriously rock out.**

**By JewWitch**

Okay, so…it seems that Abby wants to remind me what a badass she is right now, and Neela agrees that it's time for some fun, so…New Year's is coming a little early. I know I'm skipping Christmas; basically that's cause I don't care, not being Christian, and neither does Neela. Abby doesn't mind as long as I let her get her swerve on!

**Rating: R **

Note: It suddenly occurs to me, I don't know the name of Ray's band...has it ever actually been mentioned on the show? Well, I'm going to give them an appropriate name here; if anyone knows the real one, tell me and I'll go back and change it later.

"I still can't believe you headlocked that guy," Abby smirked as she trailed her fingers down Neela's bare arm, their legs entwined in a tangle beneath the blankets.

"Why not?" Neela asked, one eyebrow cocked sharply.

"I just thought_ I _was gonna be the butch one," Abby shrugged with an innocent grin.

"Ah, but I've got the brass cojones," Neela reminded her, propping herself up on one elbow. "Have you forgotten already?"

"How could I, when you're running around tackling 250 lb. guys?" Abby replied seriously. "I absolutely love that you would do something that stupid for me…though, I kind of wish you hadn't. If you'd gotten hurt…"

"Oh, you would've done the exact same thing, Abby, so don't _what if _me."

"'Kay," Abby grinned. "So, I hope this isn't too presumptuous of me, but...what are you doing for New Year's?"

"Well actually..." Neela flushed and looked up at Abby from beneath her lashes, looking both shy and eager at the same time. "A few weeks back, Ray heard me playing my viola in my room, and ever since he's been on me to sit in with his band for a gig...he's asked me to play with them at a club New Year's Eve. I was hoping you'd come along."

"Viola?" Abby looked at her as if she had said she'd be playing a rubber saw. "In a rock band?"

"Electric viola," Neela clarified. "Heaven only knows where he got it, but...yeah."

"Wicked," Abby smirked. "You're just trying all kinds of new things these days, aren't you?"

"How d'you mean?"

"Um...hello?" Abby waved her hand to indicate their intimate position.

"Oh...did you think I'd never shagged a girl before?"

"Neela!" Abby gasped. Neela was grinning delightedly.

"Chock full of surprises, aren't I?"

"You certainly are..." Abby shook her head. "Okay, dish."

"Well..." Neela began with a sigh, "My first semester at Yale, one of my best mates was from Manhattan, and since I couldn't go all the way back to London for Thanksgiving break, she brought me home with her. She took me out clubbing one night, and we got fantastically drunk..." Neela looked up at Abby hesitantly then, nervous she might offend the other woman after her long struggle with alcohol abuse.

"Neela, it's okay," Abby said gently. "Not everyone who's ever been drunk _is_ a drunk. You're certainly not a drunk. I'm not going to judge you, okay?"

"Right," Neela swallowed. "Well, we went to a spot called the Clit Club..."

"The _Clit Club?" _Abby repeated incredulously.

"Uh-huh." Neela grinned rakishly. "Anyway, I was eighteen, completely free for the first time in my life, and a randy little bugger to top it off...I'd been kissed a few times, but I'd never even made out with anyone properly."

"So..."

"So, my friend, Lucia, she was...you know..." Neela faltered, an adorably flustered look on her face.

"No, Neela, I don't know. She was what? Gay? Hot? Coming on to you?"

"All of those, actually," Neela nodded, smirking with renewed confidence. "I remember the band that was playing...they were this lesbian punk rock group called Antigone Rising, and between the music and the vodka and all those women grinding in that sweaty mosh pit, I just...didn't feel scared of anything. And, Lucia, she was fit...loads of curly dark hair, bright blue eyes, a smattering of freckles just across the bridge of her nose..." Neela paused and looked significantly at Abby. "She doesn't hold a candle to you, of course."

"Oh, stop flattering me," Abby said with a roll of her eyes. "It's cheap."

"I'm not," Neela said seriously. Abby looked back at her doubtfully, a tiny furrow appearing in the middle of her forehead. "You..." Neela reached out and took Abby's face in her hands, kissing her softly. "Are the most gorgeous creature I've ever laid eyes on...I couldn't dream up anything more delicious." They looked at each other for a moment, and then moved in at the same time for another, longer kiss. When they pulled apart, Abby held Neela's lower lip between her teeth, drawing it out until it snapped back.

"Right back atcha," she murmured, in a low, smoky voice.

"Uh...right..." Neela stammered for a moment, flushed and breathing heavy.

"So, Lucia?" Abby prodded.

"Right!" Neela nodded vigorously. "Lucia...well, she was on me all night, dancing with me, teasing me...she wasn't exactly _aggressive_, but she made it clear that she wanted me...she made me feel so damned sexy."

"You say that like it's difficult," Abby snorted.

"It was, then."

"How is that possible? Have you _seen_ you, Neela?" The dark-skinned girl grinned shyly and looked down at her hands.

"I'm much more secure now than I was ten years ago," she said softly.

"You ought to be, for Christ's sake...you're a fucking goddess." Neela grinned at Abby's vehemence.

"Anyway," she pressed on, "one thing led to another, and next thing I knew, we were locked in the bathroom doing things I hadn't even read about."

"Neela!" Abby laughed. "Your first time was in a nightclub bathroom?" Neela slowly nodded, with a wide, toothy grin. "You little slag," Abby admonished teasingly.

"Careful..." Neela wagged a finger. "We haven't heard the story of your first time yet, have we?" That shut Abby up quickly and effectively. "Right. Well, all that week in New York, we were at it like minxes...it was wild, I was completely outside of myself, of everything I'd ever been up till then."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to Yale, and she wanted to carry on the way we'd been going...and, well, for me, it had just been a lovely vacation. I didn't want a relationship; hell, I didn't have the foggiest idea how to even have one. I was far too serious about my studies to make the time, in any event. Plus, I had only been out of my parents' house a few months...couldn't allow for the possibility that I'd ever be with someone they wouldn't approve of."

"And is that the woman part, or the not-Indian part?"

"Both, of course."

"Of course." They grinned at each other. "You're a little heartbreaker, Neela Rasgotra."

"I didn't mean to be," Neela said softly, and there was a wash of genuine regret in her eyes. "I just...I had no bloody idea she was going to fall in love with me like that. After we came back to school, and I wouldn't go out with her, she got flaming mad at me, and moved out of the dorm, to the other side of campus...after that, we just stopped being mates. I felt right crummy about it, actually."

"Aww, that really sucks, babe...but I'd be a total hypocrite if I said I didn't understand how she felt."

"How d'you mean?" Abby looked at her incredulously for a moment.

"Neela, why do you think I kicked you out last year?" Neela looked genuinely flabbergasted. "I just couldn't stand having you so close, and not having you at the same time...it was constant torture."

"Why didn't you ever have a go at me, then?"

"Honestly? I didn't think I had a snowball's chance in hell."

"...Likewise," Neela laughed, and they grinned at each other for a moment over their shared stupidity.

"And then after what happened with those gang kids..." Abby sighed, and Neela reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Everybody was just so nice and polite; it took every ounce of strength I had to be polite back...and then to come home and have you there, being polite, too...I just...I wanted you to throw your arms around me, and tell me you wouldn't let me get lost." Neela looked deeply into Abby's eyes, reaching out again to hold the brunette's face firmly in her hands.

"I will never let you get lost, Abby." Abby laughed, and then suddenly found that she was crying. Neela threw her arms around Abby's slim shoulders, holding her fiercely. They stayed that way for a few minutes, rocking gently. Then Neela pulled back, gently wiping Abby's damp cheeks. "So...will you come out with me for New Year's, pet?"

"Do I get to be your groupie?"

When Abby arrived at the Iron Horse Music Hall a little after 9pm, she found that her name had been put on the guest list, and she didn't have to pay. She was also given a special stamp that would allow her backstage access, though she doubted she'd use it-- Neela had specifically asked her not to come back before the show, saying it would "ruin the effect" for her. Abby wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but she suspected it had more to do with nerves than anything else, and she was secure enough to honor Neela's request without getting out of sorts about it. Going up to the crowded bar, Abby ordered a diet coke and leaned back against the bar on her elbows, sussing the place out. It was a smallish spot, but very popular; she'd been here before, years ago, during the time in her life that was now mostly a blur. Looking around at the crowd, she figured she might well be the oldest person there. Somehow, though, the thought didn't actually make her feel old; it made her feel younger, the same way she felt with Neela. The fact that she could so easily blend in with this mass of twentysomethings and college students made her feel as if she'd shed off an old layer of skin, like a snake, and underneath was the fresh and shiny girl she hadn't lost, after all.

And she certainly looked the part; decked out in a pair of ripped up, very tight jeans, black combat boots, and shiny black halter top that laced up the back, she had already gotten plenty of appreciative stares from her fellow partygoers, both boys and girls. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten up in her party makeup, either-- she'd almost forgotten how much fun it was to have glittery eyes and ruby-red lips. Pleased with herself, with the club, the entire city buzzing around her, Abby tapped a cigarette out of her pack, holding it between her lips while she searched her pockets for a lighter. Before she'd found one, a light was being held in front of her, attached to a hand which was attached to the arm of a boy who couldn't be a day over twenty.

"Pretty girls should never light their own cigarettes," He said smoothly. Abby looked at him impassively for a moment, then leaned forward slightly and allowed the flicker of flame to touch the end of her Parliament.

"Thanks," she said demurely, blowing the smoke out sideways.

"So what's a sweet thing like you doing here all on her own?" The boy pressed on, grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

"I'm not alone," Abby shrugged, suppressing a snort of laughter at the young man's crestfallen expression. "I'm with the band."

"Oh...nice. I've heard them play here before, they really rock hard. You with Ray?" At that, Abby did laugh, leaning forward and slapping her thigh. "So that's a no, huh?"

At that moment, a swell of screaming and applause surged up around them, as an emcee walked onto the stage sporting a blue mohawk and a shirt that actually seemed to be made of duct tape. Abby couldn't help thinking, fleetingly, how glad she was not to be working tonight.

"Are you ready to rock 2006, Chicago?" A thunderous roar erupted. "All right! We've got a tasty treat for you tonight, kids. Local legend Greasefire is in the house!" More shrieks, and a mass of foot stamping that Abby could feel vibrating up her legs through the floor. "And as an added bonus for your eyes and ears, we have the lovely miss Neela Rasgotra sitting in on electric viola!"

As the crowd continued to shriek and the band took the stage, Abby felt a swell of pride. When her eyes fell on Neela, strutting on stage with her viola dangling from her hand, the feeling quickly morphed into something else. Abby felt as if she were simultaneously melting and dissolving, and for a moment she actually considered the possibility that someone had slipped something into her drink. But no; it was the sight of Neela, dressed in a torn plaid skirt that looked like it was probably left over from her high school uniform, cut short and jagged across her thighs, over a pair of black knee-high Doc Martens done up in British flag laces. Above her skirt was six inches of smooth brown skin, her bellybutton hovering neatly halfway between the skirt and a tight red t-shirt that said ANIMAL in bold print across the top, with a graphic of the crazy red Muppet underneath. A chain-link belt was slung low across her hips, and her hair was pulled back into two high pigtails, pulled only halfway through the elastic bands so that they made two fat loops of curls on either side of her head, tied with red ribbons. The final touch was Neela's punk rock makeup, her enormous eyes lined heavily in kohl black, with lips to match.

"Holy shit," Abby gasped, as all her blood rushed south, making her slightly woozy.

"I know!" She had completely forgotten about the overeager boy seated next to her. "Man, cut me a slice of _that!"_

"That's my girlfriend, asswipe." The red-faced boy's jaw dropped.

"Niiiiiiice."

As the band all took their positions, Neela perched on a stool and settled herself, her eyes squinting out into the crowd, obviously unable to see past the lights. Abby grinned, and slowly began worming her way closer to the front. When the music started, though, she temporarily lost the ability to press forward, her eyes drawn magnetically back to the stage and Neela. The viola wasn't introduced right away; at first it was just a heavy baseline, drums, and Ray's guitar, thrumming together with surprising grace. Abby realized she hadn't expected them to actually be good; not this good, anyway. But they were. The throbbing bass felt as if it were playing inside Abby's chest, loosening all her muscles and joints like some kind of telekinetic shiatsu massage. Her hips began to sway as her eyes were drawn again to Neela, eyes closed, rocking gracefully to the same rhythm with one foot dangling off the tall stool. Then, she raised her viola to her chin, cradling it on her shoulder almost tenderly as she raised the bow in her other hand. When it touched the strings, the smooth shift in the music was flawless, the blue spotlights deepening to purple to compliment the richness of her long, saturated tones. Abby was totally transfixed; she couldn't take her eyes off Neela. Neither could anyone else, it seemed. Abby was thrown by the surging of the crowd, and with renewed determination began pushing her way forward, until her stomach was pressed against the edge of the stage.

Neela didn't open her eyes once. It wasn't as if she were _playing_ the music; it was as if she was actually _becoming_ the music. It flowed out of her like her body was changing its chemical composition, muscle and bone evaporating into endless, slender notes. Abby remembered what she'd said the first morning they'd woken up together; when she'd told Neela she looked like a song.

With a jolt, Abby realized the set was over; all around her was screaming and stamping and the tang of sweat and smoke. Neela took an old-fashioned curtsey, which somehow made her look even more punk and irreverent than ever. Looking down, she suddenly caught Abby's eye, and, grinning delightedly, gave her a saucy and very obvious wink, causing an eruption of hoots and whistles all around her. But Abby wasn't bothered by it; she felt elated. The sensation of three hundred people standing behind her, all of them screaming for Neela, _her_ Neela, gave her the same heady feeling of pride that she'd had when first the band had taken the stage. She was glad, now, that she had gotten that special stamp, as she elbowed her way through the rowdy crowd to the entrance to the backstage area.

Finding her way to the green room, Abby leaned in the doorway for a moment, just watching Neela talking and laughing excitedly with Ray and his bandmates. They were all slapping her on the back, and one of them handed her what looked like a joint. Abby was surprised, though not angry, to see Neela accept it without batting an eyelash, holding it to her black-rimmed lips between pinched fingers. Then she looked up and saw Abby watching her, and a broad, sultry grin blossomed on her face. She held out her arm and crooked one finger, beckoning Abby toward her.

"Hey, rockstar," Abby greeted her, kneeling on the couch next to Neela and throwing one leg over her hips, straddling her.

"Hey groupie," Neela giggled, reaching out and tangling her hand in Abby's sweat-dampened hair. "Looks as if you're enjoying yourself, then?"

"Enjoying _you," _Abby corrected her, leaning in and kissing her thoroughly, delighting in the sweet flavor of the pot on Neela's breath. "Along with everybody else here." Neela grinned and dropped her head on Abby's shoulder.

"You're having me on," she drawled, her hands winding around to stroke Abby's bare back between the laces of her halter top.

"No way, babe," Abby shook her head. "You're the hottest thing in this club, and everybody knows it. Tell her, Ray." Abby leaned back on Neela's legs, glancing to the equally punked-out undercover doctor across the room.

"You were fucking hot, Neela," Ray said easily. "You ever wanna join the band for real, you just let me know." He took in the sight of the two of them entwined on the couch, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Do you know how much money I could make if I had a camera right now?"

"Not enough to cover the medical expenses you'd have afterwards," Abby deadpanned. Ray chuckled.

"C'mon, you two should come along to our after-hours...it's gonna be wicked." Neela and Abby looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"Love to," Neela said with a wink. "Can we just have five minutes?" Her back arched with a small gasp of surprise when Abby twisted her fingers sharply. "Uh-- twenty minutes," Neela amended, flushing as Abby crawled off her and offered her a hand. Grinning, Abby led Neela back through the crowd, which would've been difficult enough even without the adoration being thrown at Neela by every drunken idiot they passed, but somehow they made it across the floor, to a paint-splattered door marked _ladies._

"Wanna be eighteen again?" Abby murmured rakishly, gripping Neela's hand tight and nibbling lightly on her ear.

"I think I already am," Neela giggled, opening the door and pulling Abby in behind her.


End file.
